


Tying Knots

by xxdonnatylerxx



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Book 3: Mockingjay, Friendship/Love, Hunger Games
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-30
Updated: 2018-01-28
Packaged: 2018-02-27 14:16:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 18,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2696063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxdonnatylerxx/pseuds/xxdonnatylerxx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'Annie and Peeta are what we've fought for, and though they are physically here, they've left us... So what are we left with? Each other, I guess. Someone whose hand you can reach out for in the dark and know you'll find it seeking yours.' The story of the growing relationship between Katniss and Finnick in Thirteen as they deal with their responsibilities and their fading loves.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

Hi everyone! This story takes place during Mockingjay, beginning a few days after Annie, Peeta and the others have been rescued, and focusses on the evolving relationship between Katniss and Finnick as they confide in each other and help each other cope. Thanks for reading, more chapters soon!

\---

Chapter One

I hear the door quietly open, and huddle further into the dark corner of my favourite supply closet until it closes again. I assume whoever it was didn't notice me, and merely took what they came for and left, and so I relax, trying my hardest to drift into a numb sleep. It's only a few minutes later, when I hear the tiniest hiccup, that I open my eyes and see him through the gloom, sitting with his knees tightly to his chest and staring down at his rope.

I want to order him out like I would anyone else, but I can't. I nudge him gently with my foot, a silent acknowledgement that I've noticed him, and he lifts his head to look at me, his eyes bleary. I wait for Finnick to speak first.

"I was wrong." His voice is hoarse, the opposite of his usual smooth tone, "I should have known."

"What are you talking about?"

"What I said to you the other day. About the rescue."

I think back, and remember his words: Don't you see, Katniss, this will decide things. One way or the other. By the end of the day, they'll either be dead or with us. It's… it's more than we could hope for!

He's right now, and he was wrong then. They are not dead, which would have been the kindest outcome for them, and though they are present, the people we lost are certainly not back with us. Peeta is warped beyond recognition, drugged back into unconsciousness by Thirteen's medics because it's kinder than letting him stay awake to struggle with his restraints until he bleeds, to yell about his hatred for me until his throat is raw. And Annie…

"How is she?" I manage, and Finnick squeezes his eyes shut, shaking his head.

"Gone." He tells me bitterly, "Exactly as I was scared of. Before the Quell, she was barely keeping it together, but now? After what they've done to her? She's unrecognisable."

"At least she still loves you." I whisper, not going on to say what I really mean – that Peeta will never love me again. I know Finnick understands, though.

"I think she does," He admits with a sigh, "But I don't think she knows why, any more."

"She doesn't know why she loves you?"

"No. She's too out of it, Katniss; every time I think she's really here with me she lasts twenty seconds and slips back into her own little world. She can't tell her memories from her imagination, or the past from the present... She's clinging to me because she knows she's supposed to, but honest to god I think most of the time I could ask her my surname or what district we're from or what she's doing with me and she wouldn't have a clue."

This is it. This is why I'm certain that Finnick is the only person in this district who can genuinely understand how I've felt since they came back. We're both having to come to terms with the fact that the reunions we had hoped for, the relationships we'd hoped to rekindle, will never exist again. Annie and Peeta are what we've fought for, and though they are physically here, they've left us... So what are we left with?

Each other, I guess. Someone whose hand you can reach out for in the dark, like I do now, and know you'll find it seeking yours.

"You think she can get better?" I've never sounded less positive, and neither has his reply.

"No. No, I thought she could get better before, but not now. Not after the Capitol. They may not have hijacked her like they did with Peeta, but I think it's because they realised that they didn't need to. That just being confined would be enough to send her… To make her…" Finnick can't finish, and looks at me with tears in his eyes. "What am I going to do, Katniss?"

I don't have an answer, of course, so I look down, and see that while we were speaking he has mindlessly wrapped his length of rope around both of our hands where they clutch each other.

Without warning, images of Finnick in his games enter my head, of him using rope, trapping the other tributes in nets, and I know for a fact that I'm going to be sick. I wrench my hand away, stumble out of the closet and into a bathroom in a flash, barely registering that I've knocked down a stack of boxes on my way out.

I look in the mirror as I clean myself up, thankful that there's no ghastly makeup to smudge as I splash my face with water. Where did that come from? Finnick was at his most vulnerable, and somehow that equated in my head to him at his most powerful? Not just powerful but deadly. I can't judge him for what he did in his games; what we all had to do… No, the curse of being a Victor obviously just got the better of me.

I retrace my steps and open the door of the cupboard to see Finnick packing the stationery I knocked over back into its boxes. He is deliberate, methodical, and I guess this must help him as much as tying his rope does.

"Sorry." I gesture to the floor, "I just… I was thinking…" How can I explain to him what just came over me? I don't even understand it myself. Make an excuse.

"Thinking about Peeta. And how important it is for me to focus on him getting better so that we can go back to the way things were. "

Finnick scoffs, barely glancing up from his pencils. "If you say so, Girl on Fire."

"Girl on Fire?" I barely realise I've expressed my shock out loud until he looks up at me, eyebrows raised.

"Yep. That was your Capitol voice, Katniss. Just for a second there I thought I was watching you lie your way through an interview with Caesar Flickerman." I'm speechless, but it doesn't seem to matter because Finnick isn't finished, standing up to look me in the eye as he continues.

"You want to be that person with me? Fine!" He plants a wide, fake grin on his face, "Then I'll be Capitol Finnick as well, and the two of us can laugh about when all this war business blows over and we can get on with being whores in between mentoring the Hunger Games for the rest of our lives and marry Annie and Peeta who will miraculously recover and live happily ever after. That's what friends are for, huh, Katniss?"

He's stunned me. I walk away from him and ignore my dinner and my scheduled hunting time with Gale and go back to my compartment and sleep.

\---

If only it were that simple. In my own little bed, I'm supposed to be able to get away from Peeta and from Gale and from Coin and from Annie and from all of their nonsense. Instead my dreams are full of them. For the second time today, I find that Finnick's words drift into my head: I drag myself out of nightmares each morning and find there's no relief in waking.

It's 3am. Lying here is pointless. Sleep is pointless, and being awake is pointless. My body moves of its own accord, slipping out of the room silently without waking my mother or Prim and walking towards- Where? Where am I walking to?

I ought to want Gale right now, I realise. He has been my rock from the beginning; the person I can talk to and who won't hesitate to help. But since Peeta's warning and the bombing, our bond seems to have gone and his jealousy has increased tenfold, not only towards Peeta but Finnick, too. He must be crazy. Finnick hates me now.

And yet, I find I've walked to the door of his compartment without even registering. My subconscious tells me He understands you. He's who you need. My subconscious is obviously more mentally disoriented than I am. I stop myself from knocking on Finnick's door when I realise that Annie might well be inside too –in fact, yes, as I stop and listen, I can hear a female voice yelling wildly from inside.

I never in a million years thought I could miss anything about the Games or the Victory Tour, but right now I'd kill to be safely on the train with Peeta, his arms around me, knowing in my heart that he'd never willingly let go…

Well, he has. He's broken, and he's forgotten, and he's done with me. And me with him.

After racking my brains as to who could possibly help me right now, I begrudgingly settle on Johanna – although I know she won't be gentle or comfort me, she might at least knock some sense into me. When I arrive at the hospital, I find it unmanned, darkened and empty, apart from one bed in which a figure lies under the blanket but clearly awake and fidgeting.

"Johanna?" I move across and sit down in the chair next to the bed, only for the person to turn to me and shake his head.

"Nope." Finnick says, turning onto his side to face me fully, and I see the rope which his hands were busy with, "Not here." I'm so surprised that I forget our encounter this afternoon.

"Where is she? Is she ok?"

"She's got her own private room," Finnick sighs, "She's unconscious so they have to keep a close eye on her. Apparently she overdid it a little on the self-administered morphling this afternoon."

My eyes widen. "You mean she was trying to-?"

"No." He cuts me off bluntly, "No, I don't think she would. Johanna's strong, she… She just wants a way to forget and not to feel."

"She's not alone there," I mutter, looking down at my hands, and then force the courage to meet his eyes. "I'm sorry, Finnick."

He nods, "I figured. I am, too. I don't think you're stupid enough to believe there's a happy ending here, for either of us. I just knew you weren't telling me something and I was surprised and I let the horrible background things take over me."

"I understand. I know that me and you shouldn't lie to each other." There's silence for a moment, only filled by the slight rustling of the sheet as he moves his hand to offer it to me. I don't hesitate to take it.

"Why'd you come to find me in the cavern, Katniss?"

"I don't know. Why'd you come to find me in the cupboard?"

He thinks for a moment. "Because you're the one who gets it. How it feels to be so conflicted. On the hovercraft, after the Quell, when you came in with that syringe… I'm sure Haymitch thought it was to defend yourself. But I know you were looking for Peeta. I know you understand that sometimes it would just be kinder for it to end."

I nod slowly, remembering Finnick's words by my bedside on that hovercraft. I wish she was dead… I wish they were all dead and we were, too. And then I remember my thoughts about Buttercup and the torch game in the cavern, and my metaphor of Peeta as the light and being out of reach but still there and how I thought if I only reached high enough, he could come back… But he's back now, and he's still more out of reach than ever. I squeeze my eyes shut and force the thoughts away, replacing them with something more trivial.

"I thought you'd be in your compartment. I heard Annie yelling in there," I blurt out, not caring that I'm admitting to Finnick that I listened outside his door.

"So she's still yelling." He says sadly, slightly increasing his pressure on my hand, "It's why I'm here. Once she's gone, she's gone for hours, and it doesn't make a single bit of difference whether I'm there with her or not. It's like I'm invisible to her." Finnick sighs heavily, "So I thought I'd come in here and see if I could get some sleep. No chance."

"Nightmares." I tell him, not even needing to ask. There's a couple of minutes of silence between us, and then Finnick shuffles aside to make some space, and I hop up beside him in the uncomfortable hospital bed. It reminds me of the last time we were here together, huddled in my bed with our dinner trays to watch the Capitol's interview with Peeta. I decide I need to tell him what drove me to the cupboard this afternoon.

"So they tried something on Peeta today." We turn to face each other as my voice breaks the silence, "They sent in a girl from our district, Delly, to try and bring some of his old memories back. Ones the Capitol hadn't touched. She was told only to speak about his childhood, and not to mention me at all. And…"

"And he brought it round to you on his own?"

I nod. "He called me a mutt, Finnick, he… He doesn't even believe I'm human."

"The state he's in, Katniss, he's not human." It's awful, but I can't disagree with him. Finnick absent mindedly picks up a piece of my hair from the pillow between us, examining it closely.

"So that's me. Why were you in the closet today?"

His face twitches slightly, as though he's contemplating telling me. I know he will, though.

"Annie." Finnick says, "She actually seemed quite with it, compared to other times. She was eating her dinner, and managing not to drift away, and then she turned to look at me with this smile… I can't describe it, Katniss. It was terrifying, like she was looking straight through me, and then she snapped out of it. And she looked a bit confused, and then focussed on me again, and calm as anything, asked me if I think the weather will be nice for this year's Hunger Games. Whether I think the head Gamemaker has anything good planned for the Quarter Quell, and what time her older brother will be home – this is Annie's brother who died when she was six. And then she picked up her fork, stood up, and threw it as hard as she could across the room, before asking me 'You are Finnick, aren't you? It's so nice to finally meet you in person after seeing you on TV for so many years.'"

"Well," I truly do not know what to say. "The state she's in, Finnick…"

"I know. It's just that I'm barely keeping it together myself." He extracts a single strand of my hair from the lock he's holding and ties a miniscule knot in it, "I don't know how I can stay – how I can stay with her when she often doesn't even know who I am, and not completely lose my own mind."

"I can't stay." I admit, "I've told Haymitch as much and he's looking for something for me in one of the districts. Probably Two."

"I wish I could go." Finnick says, accidentally tugging too hard on my hair as he ties it, and I swat his hand away. "They wouldn't let me, though. They want me to stay with her all the time, and they assume I'm happy to do it. They're so focussed on Peeta that they don't think her state is severe enough to warrant the same supervision he gets."

"The two of them…" My voice is thick, "God knows what they went through, Finnick. God knows what they did to them. I just need to get away. I can't be underground anymore, I need to breathe some air and see some trees."

"I'm the same. I'd give anything to go to Four and see the ocean."

"We'll go!" I squeeze his hand, and he smiles.

"Of course we will, Katniss. We can swim, and go on a boat." Suddenly, we aren't in Thirteen, and we aren't in a warzone. There is no Peeta, and no Annie, and we are just two young people making plans.

"You can finish teaching me how to catch fish! And we can go to the beach."

"The beach! Oh, you're going to love the beach. There's nothing quite like walking on warm sand, or sitting and looking out at the sea."

"Can you see it from your house?"

"Not quite, but it's close; just a few minute's walk…"

We fall asleep holding hands and talking about the seaside. Hours later, it isn't a nightmare that wakes me but the voices of two medics discussing Peeta's condition. And then Prim, looking puzzled at the sight of us but refraining from asking questions, and delivering the message that Annie has got lost looking for the dining room and has been asking random citizens if they know how to get to the best restaurant in the Capitol.

The little solace we found last night has gone. Finnick takes a deep breath, closes his eyes for a moment, looking pained, and then goes to Annie. I avoid Prim's perplexed expression, I find Haymitch, and I go to Two.


	2. Chapter Two

Chapter Two

There are woods in Two, at least. There's the smell of trees and the feel of the wind and the taste of fresh air, and it is in these woods that I kiss Gale to drown out everything that he has just said to me about Peeta.

"I don't stand a chance if he doesn't get better. You'll never be able to let him go. You'll always feel wrong about being with me."

Well, I know in my heart that Peeta's never going to get better… So is Gale right? Will I never be able to let him go, and be stuck in this state of unrest for my whole life? Not with him, not loving him, but unable to rid myself of the guilt I feel and the responsibility I know I have towards him… The thought horrifies me.

But then, what I said to Gale was true, too. That I've always felt guilty for kissing Peeta because of him, whether or not he believes it. That I loved Peeta, I'm sure, but I'm uncertain in what way… Finnick said that to me, I remember, in the cavern. What I feel for Peeta is strong, and real – but what kind of love is it? If only Finnick were here to help me now; to talk things through until I could make a little more sense of them. Perhaps next time I speak to Haymitch on the phone I could get him to-

"Katniss."

Sensing my distraction, Gale pulls away. Remembering where I am and what I've just been doing, I focus back on him, turning the talk onto how he realised his feelings for me. He tells me that I'll always be oblivious to people being in love with me, and I frown at him as he continues.

"Take Peeta. Take me. Or even Finnick. I was starting to worry he had his eye on you, but he seems back on track now." I sigh, genuinely irritated and impatient with Gale's jealousy.

"Back on track?"I demand, exasperated, "And what do you mean by that?"

"Wh-" Gale stutters, surprised, "I just mean that now he's got Annie back-"

"And there you go, Gale." I couldn't care less if we were kissing twenty seconds ago. I am furious. "Rushing in and making assumptions and leaping to judge people for things you know nothing about. Annie's back – she's broken, but she's back, so Finnick must be happy! Peeta's been hijacked, so I must be planning on being with you! Finnick and I have lived through the games, are both going through something horrific and have found the tiniest bit of comfort in one another's company and conversation, so he must be in love with me, or in the very least trying to seduce me!" I spit my final words at him and turn on my heel. "You don't know Finnick if you think he'd love me."

"I know he was desperate." Gale addresses my retreating back, "That makes people do all kinds of crazy things." How he has remained calm in the face of my tirade, I don't know. But I'm seeing clearly for the first time that he just doesn't understand. He doesn't understand me, and as much as I hope and pray and try to convince myself, I don't think he ever will.

"How about this, Gale," I have calmed my voice, "You don't worry about me anymore. Because if you're right, which I know you think you always are, then there's no hope for the two of us anyway. I'll just spend the rest of my life riddled with guilt about Peeta until I snap and do something as crazy as confide in the desperate Finnick Odair. But I won't trouble you with it any longer. You forget me and just get on with building your death traps and winning the war by any means possible. That's all that's important, anyway."

I don't wait for his reaction before I leave, and I don't look at him the following day as he takes my words to heart and devises a plan to kill every single worker inside the Nut.

Haymitch tells me, while District Two falls apart around us, that they showed Peeta a clip of me singing today and for the first time, it didn't trigger a breakdown. I suppose I should be happy, but truthfully, all I am is numb. I can't see this as improvement, because I know in the bottom of my soul that my Peeta is gone. While to everyone else this new version of him may be improving, I will never forget the look in his eyes and the tone in his voice which communicated pure, burning hatred for me. He isn't mine anymore, he is the Capitol's. The best we can hope for is that he'll be neutral towards me, that he won't hate me, but that isn't the same as loving me. Hearing anything about this new Peeta just makes me miss my boy with the bread even more.

I wish he was here. The real him. He could describe to everyone how very wrong this entire Nut plan is… I push the thought out of my head, and I'm about to ask whether I can speak to Finnick when a burst of gunfire interrupts my thoughts, and Haymitch disconnects from my headset to help the rebels.

His voice returns to my ears when I'm instructed to make my speech, and as usual, I defy my instructions, running out into the square. I plead with the man from Two whose gun is trained on me, thinking of the other Victors in their interviews before the Quell, and how much better they were than me at explaining the Capitol's cruelty.

I think how some of the Victors demanded action, like Beetee, Chaff and Johanna, and then I think of Finnick. He played up to his smooth stereotype, admittedly, but his message was different; one of love and not one of anger. For a second, I close my eyes to collect my thoughts, trying to focus as hard as I can on the old Peeta and how I need to take inspiration from him and emerge from this. I find with horror that when I try and picture his face, I picture it snarling and lunging at me, and it is replaced by the image of Finnick reciting his love poem, bursting through my subconscious and flooding me with an unexpected wave of calmness and warmth.

I don't have time to register how surprised I am at my own thoughts. I open my eyes, and realise I have been too distracted. I can't convince these people. All I can do is stare up at the screen and watch myself get shot.

\---

I guess that by coming to my hospital room back in Thirteen, Gale is trying to give me some consolation. But even as he tells me that we have taken Two, that the people in the square turned on the Capitol soldiers themselves, I merely feel numb, and I know that this time it isn't caused by the morphling flooding through my veins. I stare at him as he tries to reason with me that his strategy was okay, and even though I tell him the opposite to his face, all I can think is how heartless he sounds.

Finnick rushes in, and I inhale sharply, sure that he will hold back because Gale is here. Instead, I am more grateful than I have ever been, as he ignores Gale's cool gaze, comes straight to my side, sits down next to me on my bed and envelops both of my hands with his.

"I'm so glad you're awake." I can tell he means it, and I open my mouth to say as much before Gale beats me to it, his eyebrows raised.

"We all are."

Finnick's eyes move from my face to Gale's, puzzled. Clearly until now Gale has made his jealousy obvious only to me.

"Of course we are." Finnick searches Gale's face and I can almost see his mind working him out. "Can't have our beautiful Mockingjay with broken wings, can we?" His tone is feather light, but verging very closely on dangerous as he squeezes my hands harder, never breaking eye contact with Gale.

Gale's eyes flare, and I just manage with great effort not to wince as he stands and pointedly kisses me on the side of the head before leaving. As soon as the door closes behind him, I let the tears come for the first time and collapse into Finnick. He extracts himself from me just long enough to pull the curtains around my bed shut, then returns and holds me in silence until my breathing evens out.

"I'm sorry," I choke out, aware that he spends all of his time taking care of someone, "You don't need me being so weak."

"Not at all." Finnick murmurs, pushing hair off my damp face, "I just don't want you rupturing anything else with all that crying." I manage a weak smile, and I'm overcome with a flash of that warmth I felt when I pictured him in Two. What is that?

"How have things been here?" I ask, and I don't need to explicitly say it for him to understand my real question. How have things been with her?

He shakes his head sadly, "I've had to bring her in here to the hospital quite a few times. Nights when she's even worse than usual and I worry she's going to do some serious damage to herself." Finnick rubs a hand across his face, the other one still locked firmly in mine, "I was going to ask Haymitch if I could call you over the last couple weeks, but everything just got on top of me, and then all of a sudden you'd been hurt and I- God, I felt so guilty, and so scared that you wouldn't make it and I wouldn't be able to talk to you again."

I tell him what happened between me and Gale in Two, and let slip about Gale's jealousy before I realise what I'm saying. Finnick just nods.

"Well," He considers, biting his lip, "I guess I'm not surprised. He's already had to deal with you being so public with Peeta."

"But me and you aren't publicly close." I insist, "We only ever talk when it's just the two of us."

"But that's more real, isn't it. I guess to Gale, the fact that we don't have to spend time together but we choose to is a sign that you really have found someone else to help you-" Finnick cuts himself off, looking slightly panicky. "I mean, I don't want to assume that you… That you think of me-"

"You're not assuming anything, Finnick!" I almost laugh at the idea of him thinking he'd offended me. "Of course I need you; you've been more help to me than anyone in this damn place. I wouldn't have been able to carry on through all of this without you, they left us both in the dark about their plans and pretty much wrote us off as crazy. Until…"

"Until they brought Annie and Peeta back," Finnick finishes for me bitterly, "And decided we could just about pass as sane in comparison to them. Sane enough to start using you again as the face of their rebellion, even though you were in danger, and to leave me all alone to take care of her."

I rest my head on his shoulder. "Where is she now?"

"Asleep." He sighs, "Honest to god, she's happier that way than any other. I'm just glad you woke up at a time when she was asleep so I could come right to see you."

It becomes our little routine. Since Annie's sleeping is so erratic, Finnick comes to sit with me whenever she rests during the day, and we do our best to keep each other going; to talk through the madness we're experiencing. That is, when I'm not spouting propaganda to the cameras from my hospital bed or taking the agonising walks which are part of my rehabilitation.

One night, I witness Annie at her very worst. Finnick has no choice but to bring her here to the hospital, where the medics sigh and give her her own room, presumably to be drugged into a state where she can't make herself sick or scratch herself as she raves and yells. I watch from my bed as they direct Finnick to carry her struggling form down the corridor to the same area where Peeta's secure room is.

I wait a few minutes, prepared for him to lose it. And sure enough, Finnick soon walks purposefully back into sight, climbing straight into my bed and my waiting arms and sobbing for so long that we both lose all track of time.

Hours and hours later, we're still holding on tight, only just able to make out the other's eyes and whispering feverish secrets to one another in the darkness.

"Do you love him, Katniss? Can you still love Peeta like this?"

"I can't. Not the way he is now. It's all just so tangled up in my head… It's like you said during the bombing. Nobody including me even knows the way I loved him in the first place."

"I understand. Everything I thought I felt is slipping further away from me every day."

"How do you know you love Annie?"

Silence.

"Finnick? In what way do you love her?"

"I love her… Because I know that she needs me and it's my job to give her help. I love her like someone who cares about her. I love her like I feel responsible. How a friend loves another friend in need. How a mentor loves a tribute."

"And what about how a boyfriend loves a girlfriend? How a husband loves a wife?"

Silence. He buries his head in my neck. Suddenly, I realise, and all I can do is hold him tighter and plant a kiss on his curly head.

"That's not how you loved Peeta, is it?" His voice is muffled against my shoulder, but I can still hear the pain.

"No, Finnick, it isn't." I admit it to him, and I finally admit it to myself. "And as much as I've tried to convince myself, I don't feel like that about Gale, either."

He pulls back enough to look me in the face, his eyes shining. "It's never occurred to anyone that I don't love her like that, Katniss. There's no way anybody could comprehend it. I've always done everything to protect her because I care, and it's just been so long and I can't tell anyone… How could I even begin to tell? She's not even mentally here anymore and it's just so cruel and still I'm bound to her."

"It's the Victor's lot in life." I whisper, "Haymitch once told me that we never, ever get off the train from the Victory Tour onwards. We have to do what they want us to do… Be with whoever they want us to be with."

"But that's the Capitol." Finnick says, "Maybe the rebellion will stop it." For the first time tonight, there's the tiniest bit of hope in his voice. "Maybe once this is all over we'll be able to get out of the public eye and do whatever we want."

"Yeah." I whisper back, trying to force some positivity into my voice, "Yeah, maybe we will." Neither of us is stupid enough to believe what we're saying, but we both need this right now. And so we give each other watery smiles, and through the night hold tight to one another and the sliver of hope that we have created for ourselves.

But the next day, on my walk above the ground, I'm joined by Plutarch. He catches me up on everything I have missed; we've taken Two, and once some final, superficial discussions have taken place in Four, all of the districts will officially be ours, and the Capitol invasion can begin.

I'm barely listening as he continues to speak about propos and entertainment, until one word freezes me in my tracks.

"Plutarch, did you just say _wedding_?"

"Oh, yes." He looks pleased with himself, "It'll be the best propo yet! I haven't asked him personally, but President Coin is about to do that now, and I'm sure he's been planning it anyway since they were reunited!"

There's a cold, sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach as I think I realise who he's talking about. "You… You mean-?"

"Finnick and Annie, of course! I'm sure he'll be thrilled that he can marry the girl he loves and contribute to the success of the rebellion…"

Plutarch keeps talking, but I've tuned him out. I hardly notice the stabbing pain in my ribs or the claustrophobia of being underground as I run back into the bowels of Thirteen, hell-bent on my goal. I have to find Finnick before Coin does.


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's chapter 3! Thanks so much for reading and I'd really really appreciate any comments, Enjoy xx

Chapter Three

I reach Command just as Finnick emerges, and it's only when I come to a stop that I gasp and clutch my ribs, finally acknowledging the crushing pain caused by sprinting when I'm barely capable of walking. Alarmed by how pale I am, Finnick hauls me back to the hospital, waiting until I've taken some painkillers and caught my breath before he tries to talk to me.

His voice is sad. "So I guess by the fact that you nearly killed yourself running just now that you were trying to warn me?" I nod.

"Plutarch just told me his plan," My voice comes out husky and quiet, "Finnick, did she ask…? Are you going to…?"

"No." Finnick sighs, running a hand through his hair, "At least not for the minute. Just as Coin told me the plan for the wedding propo, Prim came in with news from the hospital that Annie has hit one of the medics and smashed the observation window in her room." His tearful eyes meet mine, "Even Coin didn't argue with me when I said that a wedding would be impossible right now with the state Annie's in."

I reach out and wipe the single tear that has fallen down his face, and as I try to take my hand back Finnick grabs it, squeezing hard as his voice wavers.

"Am I a terrible person, Katniss?" He whispers, desperate, "I felt relieved to hear that she'd caused more chaos just so I wouldn't have to tell the truth… What kind of person feels that way when someone is suffering so much?"

That makes me think, over the next couple of days, as I continue my recuperation and Haymitch gives me updates on Peeta's progress. "Sometimes he's almost rational, and then, for no reason, he goes off again… He's pretty angry at me, but for all the right reasons."

I start to wonder whether I want Peeta to get better or not. Of course, it's not that I want him to be in pain any more, but I can't imagine ever getting to the point where I could trust him if he claimed to have recovered, if he were to tell me he loved me… It's like Finnick said, I'm relieved that he's still so temperamental, as awful as it is, because I have something to blame for why I don't want to be with him. If that makes me a terrible person, then we'll be terrible together.

On the afternoon Haymitch comes to find me, I'm almost managing to have a good time. Finnick sits on the chair by my bed while I'm sat on the floor between his legs, the two of us lapsing into giggles as he attempts to weave complicated knots into my hair. Haymitch frowns as he sees us, an almost suspicious expression passing briefly across his face. I smile and greet him as Finnick gently helps me up so as not to hurt my ribs, and I sit down on my bed. Haymitch looks shifty, indecisive, and so I take the direct approach.

"What?" I ask sharply, knowing the only thing this could be about, "What's happening to him?"

Haymitch, knowing me as he does, doesn't beat around the bush. "He says he'd like to see you."

A kind of dread washes over me, and I'm not sure if I'm scared of him being worse or better. This is not part of my plan. My job now is to go to the Capitol, to kill Snow, and then to die. Never was I to hear the words He says he'd like to see you. But now that I have, there's no way to refuse. What surprises me is that I've got one condition. I turn to Finnick.

"I need you to come in with me."

It takes convincing, both for Finnick and for Haymitch, but finally they both agree. Peeta's eyes lock on mine immediately when we enter, but I determinedly avoid his gaze, focussing instead on his restraints, on the needle poised to knock him out if he loses it. I don't realise I've been staring blankly at it for a good few seconds until Finnick gently pushes me further into the room, offering Peeta a wary smile.

"Hello, Peeta."

"You're Finnick." His voice is blunt, emotionless, so unlike the voice that used to coax me out of my nightmares. That job belongs to Finnick now.

"I am. It's good to see you!"

Peeta ignores him, and I can feel his eyes on me, so I force myself to meet them.

"I only told Haymitch I wanted to speak to you." Peeta looks at me accusingly, both anger and fear obvious in his expression.

"I-" I choke out, my voice tiny, "I know. I just thought it might be good for you to see Finnick as well."

"So you're scared of me, then?"

"Well, shouldn't I be?" I feel my temper rise, and I hate myself for it. "I recall the last time we met you tried to strangle me, so-"

"Alright." Finnick rests a hand on my shoulder, and Peeta notices. He gives a hollow laugh.

"You've moved on quick, then. I knew they were all wrong when they said you loved me." Again, despite the fact that he's been through hell, I find myself angry at him. This is all wrong.

"You don't know what the hell you're talking about." I can hear Haymitch sigh in my earpiece as I speak, "You don't… How can you…?" I can't express my fury at him. "I don't know you."

"Well aren't you nice!" Peeta laughs again, a terrible, bitter sound, "To say that to me after all I've been through."

I clench my fists, "Yeah. We've all been through a lot."

Peeta nods, looking from me to Finnick, his eyes wide and almost manic. "I bet you have! The two of you!" He glares at Finnick, "Tell me, do you feel good about being with the mutt when you're supposed to be with Annie?"

Finnick's jaw tightens, and it's my turn to grab his arm as he takes a step closer to the bed.

"You don't know what you're talking about." He manages to keep his voice calm, even as Peeta begins to shake and look more and more deranged.

"I do!" Peeta yells wildly, "I know her, Finnick! I was with her the whole time in the Capitol! You'd better watch out if you don't want me trying to steal her from you! Much better than being with a mutt who doesn't care about anybody!"

That's enough for the both of us. "Come on, Katniss," Finnick mutters, but this only makes matters worse, as my name seems to act as a trigger and Peeta loses it completely, thrashing fiercely against his straps and shrieking incoherently as the medics rush in to sedate him and usher us firmly out of the room.

In the corridor, still able to hear his screams growing fainter, I sink to the ground. Haymitch strides over, and I press my palms to my eyes, breathing heavily .

"I'm so sorry." I'm pleading with him as he pulls me to my feet, "I never meant to-"

"Let's just agree that it was a bad idea." Haymitch surprises me with his lack of scolding, and I've never been more grateful. I glance around to see Finnick a few feet away, staring at the ground and looking lost, and I reach for Haymitch's hand.

I see his surprise at the gesture as I look pleadingly into his eyes, communicating everything that I can't out loud. I know this man understands.

"He's not coming back, is he?" Haymitch sniffs, and shakes his head. "Then please," I almost whisper, glancing briefly at Finnick, "You have to get us out of here."

\---

I haven't dared to hope that the landing pad in District Four would actually be in sight of the ocean, so I'm thrilled beyond comparison when I step into the open air and I can see it beyond some buildings, vast and blue and twinkling.

I take a deep breath, revelling in this new salty, fresh scent, before looking at Finnick and realising that my delight is absolutely nothing in comparison to his. I can never thank Haymitch enough for this; for relentlessly persuading Coin and Plutarch that it was a good idea for us to come here. As Plutarch told me, there are merely a few discussions, a few papers to sign here, mainly for show, and then all of the districts will officially be in the hands of the rebels. Officially, we are here to film a few propos, sending out the message that the Mockingjay is alive and fighting despite being shot, and that we as Victors are willing to travel any distance in the name of the rebellion. Truthfully, it's just that neither of us could stand another day being cooped up underground with the weight of Annie and Peeta's madness on our shoulders, but that wasn't what Haymitch used to convince them.

The first couple of days are spent in the Justice Building being captured on camera talking to the District's commanders and watching the papers be signed. In the evenings we eat dinners of seafood, delicious new flavours that I've never tasted before, and on the first night I'm so full and feeling so unusually secure that I fall straight asleep when I'm shown to my room. But on the second evening, when Haymitch has settled himself with the local drink and Plutarch and Cressida have buried themselves in editing their footage, Finnick grabs me by the hand.

"Come on," He grins, "I've been itching to show you around since we got here."

In the back of my mind, a voice tells me that it won't be safe, that I shouldn't stray too far or disobey instructions, but the glint in Finnick's eye somehow silences it. We wander through the expansive town centre, and I allow myself to ignore the occasional smashed window or broken down wall which reminds me of the fact that we're in a warzone.

"It's smaller than I thought," I observe, and Finnick laughs.

"This is just the main town," He tells me as we walk, "There are lots of other villages spread around, like you saw in District Two. This place is just the glittery part of the district you always see on TV. You came here on your Victory Tour."

We enter a large square with the Justice Building at the far end and I nod, remembering.

"It seems so long ago," I sigh, "It's hard to believe it's only been a year."

"Yup. I was there, you know, with Mags and Annie and the other Victors. I watched you up on that stage spouting some awfully written speech about unity and the Capitol."

I cringe, shaking my head to rid myself of the memory. "I didn't see you, though," I tell him, "At the reception or the feast for us in the evening or anything."

"No," Finnick sighs, "No, I um… I had to take Annie back to her house. She took a bit of a turn." I squeeze his hand in sympathy, and his pained look is replaced by a weak smile.

"So," I change the topic, "What else is in this town? Did you live here?"

"I didn't before my Games," He tells me, as I let him lead me down another street, "But the Victor's Village is here, and the training centres."

"Training centres?" I'm puzzled. Surely they don't need training centres outside of the Capitol? "You mean like-" And then it hits me. "Oh."

"Yep." Finnick raises his eyebrows, "That's the reality of it, Katniss. There's a reason we need such a big Victor's Village in Four, and it's because our tributes always have the best shot. Because we were starting to train with weapons at about the same time we were learning to walk and talk."

Before my Games, I'd never given the Career tributes much thought because I'd never needed to, and when I was competing I just regarded them as brutes; as monsters who didn't matter because they had volunteered to be there. But the way Finnick puts it now, I'm finally forced to look at the reality. That they are victims just as much as the rest of us; that they are only so desperate to go into the Games because they've had it forced onto them for their entire lives. In the same way that I don't judge my prep team for being shallow and childish because it's how they've been raised, I can't blame the Careers for the way they see the Games.

For the millionth time in my life, the sheer unfairness of the sick society that we live in washes over me, and the desire to throttle Snow burns in my chest.

I look at Finnick with a new perspective. "I've never asked you," I say softly, "About what it was like."

We've moved out from between two buildings to the top of a grassy bank, at the bottom of which is a long beach and then the endless expanse of the sea. It's breathtaking.

Finnick seems to consider what I've just said as we sit down on a bench overlooking the ocean. "It's hard to describe," He says, "Like I say, they just force it onto you as far back as I can remember. I guess it's when we start school that they decide who they want to pick to train up properly, and when I was picked it was something to be so proud of. It's a chance to prove yourself, when you're that young. We'd watch the Games every year and when our tributes came back Victors they were Gods, you know? What seven-year-old doesn't look at a person like that with admiration." He shakes his head bitterly, "It's all so very, very wrong, Katniss."

I nod, trying not to imagine Prim at age two being encouraged to fight with the other children.

"So how come you were only fourteen?" I ask him, "I thought Career tributes were normally not ready until sixteen or seventeen."

"Ah, yes," Finnick smirks slightly, "Well. I hate to say it, but my ego back then was even bigger than it is now. I knew, deep down, that I was the best, and I wouldn't take no for an answer. I told my trainers that I felt ready to volunteer and they absolutely forbade it. They knew I could win, but they wanted me to wait a year or two. But, there's not all that much they can do come reaping day. It's all down to who can get in there and volunteer first. They were furious when I managed to shout out first; figured they'd lost for another year." He swallows, his voice quiet now, and reflective, "I guess I showed them, huh?"

I squeeze my eyes shut, unaware until they spill over that tears have pooled in them. Finnick opens his arms and I lean into him, silent for a while as we watch the sun creep closer and closer to the horizon.

"Come on!" He jumps up suddenly, seeming determined to banish our sombre mood, "Shoes off, Everdeen!"

I'm so surprised that I laugh, but I don't have time to ask what he's talking about before he's flung his shoes away and sprinted down the bank towards the beach. As I follow suit, my ribs don't hurt nearly as much as they have been. I catch up to Finnick almost at the water's edge, revelling in the feeling of the sand between my toes and the smell of seaweed.

"This is a little bit different to the last time we were on a beach together!" I speak loudly over the breeze as I reach him. He turns to me and smiles.

"Oh, definitely! There's a distinct lack of poisonous fog or mutated monkeys out to kill us here."

I almost laugh, before I catch myself. "God, Finnick, how do we joke about things like that?"

"Because," he shrugs honestly, "We've got to deal with it somehow." And he's right.

"I can't believe we're really here after everything we talked about." I slip my arm through his as we take the last few steps down to the water, "It's so hard to focus on the war and on everything in Thirteen when you're in a place like this. It's so beautiful I feel like it's too good to be true."

"Then let's just focus on this for a while." And so I do. I banish Peeta and Snow and the Capitol and the damn Hunger Games from my mind for a blissful few minutes, and focus on standing here with Finnick, the cold water just splashing our feet when the tide moves in and out. I focus on the sun as it gets lower and lower, and on how safe I feel just from having my arm through his.

Something stirs inside me, and I can't tell if it comes from my stomach or my chest or the tip of my toes, but suddenly I am drawn to Finnick more than I ever have been to anyone. It's like what I felt with Peeta in the Quell or Gale in the woods, only so much stronger that I feel like I might burst. Without a word, I throw my arms around him, and without hesitation he holds me tightly in return.

The sun moves steadily lower, its bottom third now obscured by the horizon.

"I didn't make you hate me, did I?" Finnick whispers into my hair, suddenly sounding like a frightened child, "When I told you about my Games just now."

I move my head back just far enough to look into his eyes while remaining tightly wrapped in his arms, shaking my head as I reach up and move a piece of hair from his forehead. "I could never hate you, Finnick." My voice is a whisper, "You're the one who understands, remember? This is what we do for each other."

The sun's over half gone now.

Finnick nods, smiling slightly now as he murmurs, "I think my district suits you, you know. From what I remember you're a very strong swimmer for someone from Twelve."

"Well I had to learn," I can't help but tease, "Just in case I ever had to escape from some mad fisherman with a trident." Just the tiniest sliver of sun is now visible above the sea.

"Well," He grins, "You're not getting away from me now. Like I said, you look perfect here." He brings up his hand to gently rest on my cheek, and suddenly I'm aware of what's happening. Of the intensity in Finnick's eyes, of the feelings that are swirling around me, of my skin burning at every point of contact between us. Until now, we've been each others' safety nets, someone to rely on in the utter desperation of our situation. To cling to and confide in… Nothing more. But now, something is on the verge of changing.

The sun drops below the horizon, a shadow sweeps over us, and everything changes all at once.

"Katniss," Finnick whispers, so close I can almost taste him, and I see the worries of Thirteen and of what is about to happen flash across his eyes for a second just as they do mine. I nod gently, our silent agreement that says not tonight.

And then we reach for each other as we always have done, closing the gap between our lips in a natural extension of the comfort we've already given each other for months.

Right now, there is no war, no Gale or Peeta, who I've really only ever kissed when I couldn't think of what else to do. They don't matter, because stood here, far away with Finnick on the newly darkened beach, there is nothing I'd rather do more.


	4. Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is from Finnick's perspective just for a fresh take on things :) the next chapter will be Katniss again and I might do more from his pov later on. Please do leave a comment! I love getting feedback, hope you enjoy anyway!

Chapter Four

District Four changes us. I've always known how powerful its effects can be, of course - anyone who's ever read one of my hundreds of Capitol interviews will tell you I never shut up about the beauty of my home district. Of course, the people interviewing me would always wave my comments aside, preferring to probe me for gossip about who I had slept with rather than listen to me rave about the magic of being by the sea. But still, being here, and perhaps more importantly, being away from District Thirteen, seems to alter me and Katniss more than even I could have predicted.

In Thirteen, we left behind a place where neither of us could remember ever being happy even for a second. Cooped up underground and smothered by their endless rules, we were reminded every single day of quite how dire our situation is. Coin and Plutarch and Snow and Gale and Peeta and Annie... Goddamnit, Annie... All of them had us trapped, and we didn't get a second away from them to breathe.

Not here, though. I've never see a more drastic change in two people in a mere matter of days. It's there, of course, in the back of our minds, but just for now they can't reach us. Just for now, the consequences of what we are doing fail to scare us, and even though giving in to that kiss on the beach has taken us down the start of a very dangerous road, we don't admit it or think about it.

Of course, once I came down from the initial excitement, I momentarily worried about what it would mean for the two of us. Katniss has become so fundamentally important to me in a way I couldn't have predicted and still can't quite understand, that the idea of any awkwardness or regret between us terrified me. I need her.

But I needn't have worried. As we headed back to the rebels' headquarters that first night after the beach, our hands remained firmly locked together, and I'm pretty sure I couldn't have let go if my life depended on it. Outside the door to her room, we stopped, and I held my breath as Katniss started to speak, sure that she was about to fade away from me and say what a mistake we had just made, that we should pretend it had never happened. Which, in honesty, would have been the sensible thing.

Instead, she looked up at me with a smile, keeping tight hold of one of my hands and using her other to move the piece of hair from my forehead which she always says never stays in place.

"So," she smirked, "Are you done kidnapping me, crazy fisherman? Can I escape now?"

I laughed, pretending to consider, and wound my arms around her waist. "Most definitely not. Like I said, my district suits you too much." I flicked my head ever so slightly so that the curl would fall back into its usual flyaway place, and wondered for a brief moment how I could possibly be turning on my old charm at a time like this. "But I think I'll let you go for tonight. You need to sleep."

She raised her eyebrows at me, and I knew she was thinking of the fact that neither of us usually made it through a couple of hours sleep without waking in horror from a nightmare, but she didn't need to say it. Katniss nodded, hugging me tightly, and it was then that I made the decision not to kiss her again, to attempt to take our friendship back to the way it was so as not to ruin it or hurt her. And I would have explained this to her, I really would have, had she not turned her face up to mine and kissed me with such meaning that I completely forgot the words which had been on the tip of my tongue.

It was a mere twelve minutes after I had left her with a goodnight outside her room and settled myself into bed that there was a quiet knock at the door, and I grinned.

"You didn't last long without me," I teased as she crawled in beside me, and she rolled her eyes.

"Please. I know you were waiting for me, you even left your door unlocked so that I could get in."

I took up some of her hair in my hands and absent-mindedly began playing with it as usual. Katniss drummed her fingers lightly across my bare chest as we talked. And although we had crossed a line that night, although it seemed as though everything should have changed, it seemed that nothing had. We were as close as we had already been for months, and the developments of that night had only furthered our mutual need for one another rather than upsetting it.

\---

We last six more days pretending we can keep this up before things inevitably turn sinister. We spend the nights talking endlessly about everything except our risky relationship. The days are spent trailing after Plutarch, who doesn't hide his annoyance that the propos we film will have nowhere near as much impact as my forced wedding would have had. In between takes, Katniss and I steal every moment that we can, kissing furiously in unseen corners just because we can. Nobody questions the fact that we have become inseparable - if Haymitch notices a thing, he doesn't show it. He too seems to be enjoying the new found freedom which we all know will soon come to an abrupt end.

With this in the back of our minds as the nights wear on, things become more heated.

"Did anyone see you?" I ask, lazily sprawled without a shirt on my bed as Katniss silently lets herself into my room. By the fifth night, our routine of going to our separate rooms so as not to alert suspicion before she creeps across the hall is well established.

"Nope." Katniss yawns, and lays down beside me, her hand on my chest, "Besides, I think Haymitch is about drunk enough that we could be having sex right in front of him and he still wouldn't notice." I freeze, and glance down at her. It seems ridiculous, but this is the first time that either one of us has acknowledged the newly romantic - or at least, physical nature of our relationship. My thoughts start to become a little muddled, and I wish I had a piece of rope with me to tie me back to reality for a moment. Instead, I think of the way Katniss has told me she deals with it, by reminding herself of the facts, and I give it a try.

My name is Finnick Odair. I am a Victor. I am one of the faces of the rebellion. Annie is in Thirteen. Annie barely recognises me. I am in District Four with Katniss. I have to keep Katniss safe. I need her.

Knowing me as well as she does, Katniss doesn't question my silence or the worried look on my face, instead squeezing my hands and looking up at me patiently. When I finally open my eyes to meet her gaze, I have nothing to say. Instead, the need for her that I have just felt completely engulfs me, and all I can do is hold her tight and kiss her hard.

Things get further than they ever have before. Until now, we have only kissed, but this feels different, and intense, and both of us can feel it. We pause, both out of breath, foreheads together and eyes locked.

"Do you..." I manage, "Do you want..."

Katniss swallows, and gives me a tiny nod. "I do," She whispers, "But I'm scared."

"I'm scared, too." I admit, and it's true, "I can't remember the last time I did it for... For me. And not because I had to."

"I understand. But... you're sure you want this now?" She looks so beautiful and fearful that I can't help but give her a disbelieving smile.

"Of course I am." I assure her, "You're sure too?"

Katniss nods. "I'm just scared because I'm supposed to have done this before. They thought I was married, they thought I had a baby, when underneath it all I was just nothing."

"You'll never be nothing." I shake my head, "Not to me."

We could spend hours over thinking and talking ourselves out of this, but instead we follow the same instinct as we have this whole week, and throw caution to the wind. It passes in a blissful blur, and ends in an exhausted tangle of hair and hot skin and flushed cheeks.

The dread doesn't hit me until the morning. I jolt awake from my nightmare but manage to stay silent, and Katniss remains asleep beside me. My name is Finnick Odair. I am an idiot. I am supposed to take care of Annie. Annie needs me. Peeta needs Katniss. Everyone expects us to be with them.

And just like that, the fears and the rational worries that I have suppressed for the best part of a week wash over me like an icy wave. Apparently, the same thing happens to Katniss as she wakes up a few minutes later, turning to me with a suddenly petrified expression on her face.

"Finnick..." Her voice is a panicked whisper, "What are we doing?"

I swallow with great difficulty, unable to speak, and shake my head. I am at such a loss for words about everything that has happened, about how utterly stupid we have been acting, that I am relieved when Katniss can't take the silence either, and rushes into the bathroom.

My hands on my face, I let out a huge sigh, and I'm just starting to try and figure out how the hell Katniss and I should move forward from this when I'm interrupted. Haymitch swings open the door to my room without knocking and comes inside, clutching a cup of what I hope is just coffee.

"Mornin', pretty boy." He says glumly, taking a swig, "Came to tell you today's the last day of filming. Plutarch thinks he's got all he needs, so tomorrow we go back to that delightful prison which Coin calls a district. I just went to tell Katniss but she must have already gone to breakfast, so-"

Haymitch is cut off by the sound of the shower switching on from my bathroom, and I wince. I was hoping to god we would get away with this. After a brief moment of confusion, something more like pure rage settles itself on his face.

"Oh, surely you didn't, Odair." Haymitch shakes his head, his voice low. I have nothing to say as he turns to slam my bedroom door shut so no-one can see or hear in, and then stalks across the room to pound on the door of the bathroom and yell her name until Katniss emerges, towel-clad and panicked.

"You two have got to be kidding me." I thought I had seen Haymitch furious before. Turns out I was wrong. "I don't know if you have taken anything in that has happened recently, but as it turns out, you two are the faces of this rebellion. Every single person in this country is looking to you two to be their leaders, and all you can do is..." He lets out an angry sigh, and runs a hand over his face. "Katniss, aren't you the one who came to beg me to protect Peeta over everything else, who wanted to die rather than let anything bad happen to him? Finnick, didn't you make the same deal with Mags so that Annie couldn't be reaped? What, all that was so that they could lay in hospital beds and you two could screw around behind their backs?"

Katniss' eyes are on fire. Her hand flies up to cuff Haymitch, but he's too quick, and grabs her wrist before she can hit him.

"Don't you dare, Haymitch." She hisses as he remains firmly gripping her arm, "Don't you dare say that I don't care for him. Yes, I'll admit this was a mistake, but don't you make this about him. They took him, and they broke him, and Peeta - the Peeta we both care about - is gone. You know it, and I know it."

"Sure I do, sweetheart, but Coin sure as hell doesn't. The people in the districts sure as hell don't. You and Peeta and your bullshit star-crossed lovers story is what holds this rebellion together. It's what's given people hope. Same with you and Annie." He nods his head at me, and the guilt that I'm already feeling trebles.

"I don't want to see either of you hurt," Haymitch continues, his voice ever so slightly softer now, "And if Coin heard so much as a whispered rumour about the two of you, you'd feel the consequences. She's already angry that the wedding propo didn't pay off and that her Mockingjay refuses to attend training. The two of you are on very thin ice right now. So what are you going to do?" He folds his arms tightly, looking between the two of us. But neither Katniss or I will look each other in the eye.

"We..." I manage quietly, "We're going to go back to Thirteen and remember what we're supposed to be doing."

"I'll follow the schedule on my arm." Katniss sniffs, "If it'll stop anyone getting hurt."

"Me too." I say, "I'll take care of Annie. Try and get through to her."

"And I'll try and talk to Peeta again. Nicely, this time."

We still won't even allow a glance in the other's direction. Not as Katniss goes back to her room with Haymitch, not as we film the final couple of shots for Plutarch, not as we board the hovercraft with heavy hearts. Just like that, I'm flown away from my home and back to our dreary reality. Just like that, I'm back underground and faced with Annie's screams once again, and even though we haven't exchanged a word, even though I haven't let myself look at her once, Katniss is all I can see.


	5. Chapter Five

Chapter Five

"What do you mean, you have somewhere to be? You haven't followed that schedule on your arm for one day since we've been here."

I sigh, and stop walking, giving up on escaping from Gale. I'm surprised, truthfully, that it's taken him so long to try and reconnect with me - we've been back in Thirteen for a full week and I've only seen him at mealtimes. I'm doing well, or so Haymitch keeps telling me. I've moved to a compartment with Johanna, and so far, even though it has brought back the burning pain in my ribs, I haven't missed a single training session.

"How should you know? I haven't even seen you." I sigh, turning to face Gale, and resign myself to the fact that we're going to have to speak. "I've been training. Haymitch told me that because we hadn't been doing as Coin wanted, she might decide not to send us into the Capitol in a few weeks. And I have to go."

"We?" Gale raises his eyebrows, "Us? Are you talking about you and Finnick?"

Involuntarily, I freeze. "I didn't mean to say we." I mumble, "I just meant I. I... I haven't been speaking to Finnick either." Why, for goodness' sake, are there tears in my eyes when it's so vital that I appear strong to Gale?

"Who have you been speaking to, Catnip?" His face softens ever so slightly, "Nobody's seen you. I feel like I don't know you any more, I... I'm worried."

Gale. My reliable, protective Gale. I look up at him, trying so hard not to let even one tear slip down my cheek, and just for a second I see him as I used to. As my safety net, my partner, my loving best friend who would protect me no matter what. Then, in the blink of an eye, it disappears, and I'm left sadly wondering when exactly we drifted so far apart without me noticing.

"Haymitch." I sniff, "I've been speaking to Haymitch. He knows what's best. And as it happens, I really do have somewhere to be. Peeta wants to talk to me again."

The softness in Gale's eyes is replaced by a stubborn, defensive stare in an instant, and he nods.

"Good. That's good. I won't keep you then. But I... I'm glad you're training, Katniss. I'm glad you're doing well. I've missed you."

"I missed you too," I lie, my voice so hollow that I don't think he believes it, no matter how much he wants to.

If I let myself think on it, the guilt will overwhelm me, so I push it aside and move on to the next, arguably much bigger problem. Peeta. Haymitch has agreed to come in with me to see him this time, and is waiting for me at the hospital.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" I ask him as we prepare to go in, "Both of us seeing Peeta together? Don't you think he might go a little crazy with it being the three of us again?"

"I think we'll be ok," Haymitch considers, "I've spoken to him a lot more recently, I think he just about trusts me. And we've managed to speak about you a couple of times without him losing it, so as long as you play nice this time I think it'll go better."

He squeezes my shoulder to reassure me, and I take a deep breath before forcing myself to knock on the door. The voice that calls "Come in!" sounds so much closer to the Peeta I remember that for a second, I want to sprint inside and throw my arms around him. Somehow, I don't think that would go down very well.

Still, he looks a thousand times better than when I saw him last. He's sat in a chair rather than in his bed, and his hands aren't restrained although he remains hooked up to an IV.

"Hey," I manage, feeling a lot calmer than last time, "Haymitch is here with me."

Unlike me, who can't bring myself to step much further into the room, Haymitch strolls straight to another chair and sits down. Peeta briefly nods at him, but mostly keeps his eyes trained on me.

"You look nice when you smile." He tells me bluntly, "A lot more human."

I want to snap, but I bite my tongue, and focus on the fact that he just almost paid me a compliment.

"You look really good too," I say honestly, easing myself into a chair near the door, "Have you been feeling much better?"

"Sure," He shrugs, "I'm still unsure on a lot of things. But other things seem clear now."

"That's really good." I keep the smile on my face, determined not to let him see anything negative about me that could make him freak out.

"So I remember that you have pretty bad nightmares."

"Yeah," I admit, a little taken aback by how suddenly he's made the conversation personal, "I do. A lot of pretty terrible things have happened, so it's hard. I know you must feel like that, too."

He nods, still staring closely at my face, and so I say the only thing that comes into my head, and it's true.

"I've missed you."

Haymitch raises his eyebrows, clearly unsure how he will react, but Peeta's expression remains the same.

"You have?"

"Of course. We all have." At that, for some reason, his eyes light up for a second, losing their still somewhat manic quality.

"Even Annie? Has she missed me?" I blink, surprised and unsure what to say, as he continues, "I definitely miss her. I thought, the other night, that I could hear her crying. I know what she sounds like, you see. But I think I might have imagined it. It's hard to be sure."

"Umm..." I glance at Haymitch, but for once in his life, he's staying silent, "Yeah. I'm sure she misses you. I haven't seen her much. Have you, Haymitch?"

"Sure." His voice is sharp and I know exactly what he's thinking about as he looks at me coldly, "She's still very unwell, Peeta, but I think she misses you too. Don't worry, though, Finnick is taking good care of her."

I can't take it. Suddenly, I can't think straight, and I just want to get out of this room. My thoughts are so muddled that somehow, I forget everything, and before I realise I've stood up, crossed to Peeta and patted him on the hand, mumbling that it was good to see him and that maybe I'll come back soon. Without looking back, I crash out of the room and the hospital and through the passages of Thirteen until I reach my supply closet, and curl up in the dark.

I try so hard not to think about it, but it's there. He's there, in my mind, always. Since we've been back, I've seen Finnick maybe three or four times, and we haven't made eye contact. Our support system, our closeness, our utter reliance on each other, has been reduced to nothing. I feel like nothing.

For the time it takes to breathe deeply five times, I let myself wallow. And then, focussing on Snow and how important it is to get to the Capitol and kill him, I drag myself out of the gloom and to my afternoon training session.

It's at dinner the next night that it finally becomes too much. I am in pain and exhausted from exercising, and Gale is sat opposite me trying his hardest to be cheery while I stare blankly down at my plate of food. What gets my attention is the sound of Finnick's voice, and I glance up to see him being trailed by Annie as they look for somewhere to sit in the packed room. And the only spaces are on the same table as Gale and I.

Looking wary, Finnick heads for the seat opposite me and next to Gale, but just as he approaches, Johanna sits down there. My eyes widen, and I see his breath catch in his throat. Annie sits down a little way along the bench from me, and so he has no choice but to squeeze in right next to me. Our shoulders can't help but touch, and I feel both of us stiffen. The blood running through my veins is either fire or ice cold, I can't quite decide.

The conversation between the people around us is idle and I pay them absolutely no attention, my mind intent instead on the way our legs have just brushed together, or how much I've missed the smell of him, or that one lock of hair that has once again fallen across his forehead.

Annie is erratic as ever. Humming to herself, tuning out of the conversation to cover her ears, shrieking loudly with no warning, and at one point deliberately trying to tip over her cup of water. Each time, I watch Finnick wearily reach out to stop her from the corner of my eye, and sense his resignation grow.

I'm just about finished eating when Annie gives a delighted sounding gasp, and says something I'm not ready for.

"Is that Peeta?!" Fearful, my head whips up to where she's pointing, only to see a blonde haired citizen of Thirteen who looks nothing like him. I let out a sigh of relief.

Annie sighs too, but it seems to be in disappointment. "Oh, I miss him, you know. I wonder when we'll get rescued from here and be allowed to go back to the Capitol."

It's instinctive. At the mention of Peeta's name a moment ago, I had to stop myself from grabbing Finnick's hand. But when Annie says this, neither of us can help it. Our hands meet in an instant underneath the table, both squeezing so hard it's almost painful. That's not going to make me loosen my grip, though. Although no one has noticed a difference, although this is just for us, I feel more stable than I have in a week.

It's Johanna who manages to get over her bewilderment, and her voice actually manages to be gentle as she speaks. "Annie, we were already rescued. Believe it or not, we're safe here." She glances between the rest of us at the table, "But if you miss Peeta, then we can go speak to him. I need to go to the hospital now anyway, so you can come with me. That'll be good."

Johanna stands and takes Annie by the hand, while Gale asks if I want to go down to see Beetee with him. I lie, and say I have to go and speak to Haymitch. Johanna asks Finnick if he wants to go with her and Annie.

"If you're okay with her, I'll go and get some rest," he mutters, "It's been a couple days since I've slept."

When they've all gone, our eyes meet, and we don't need to say a word. We know we can't speak here, where everyone can see, so we walk silently but quickly through Thirteen until we can be alone. Already, I miss the feel of his hand in mine.

As soon as the door of the supply closet clicks shut behind us, we collide. His arms around me, the smell of him, the feel of his breath against my neck... It's all just so Finnick, and I can't get enough.

"I've missed you so much," his voice is muffled in my hair, but we don't move apart an inch.

"Me too," I manage, kissing him feverishly, "I'm so sorry for- Oh, I'm so sorry for everything, Finnick."

"I'm sorry too," he takes my face in his hands, "I thought we could get past it if we didn't speak, but I couldn't... I can't... I just need you." He's looking into my eyes with such honesty that I wonder how I ever thought I could ignore this. I'm so overcome that all I can do is nod, and kiss him again. We're desperate, and it's heated, and all of a sudden he presses me against the wall, and I'm tugging at his shirt, and then... And then.

Afterwards, when I'm lying in his arms, the world seems to make sense again. Yes, this is a terrible idea. Yes, we're putting ourselves and others and probably the war in jeopardy. But I know I couldn't have survived any of this without Finnick, and I need him now more than ever.

"I know how crazy we're being," I whisper, looking up at him, "And it's not going to stop me."

"Me too," he smiles fondly, and I start to melt all over again, "I haven't felt so calm in ages. But... You know we're going to the Capitol in a couple of weeks, Katniss. We don't know what might happen."

"Yeah." I swallow with difficulty, "I know this is only going to get harder. Which is why we need to be stronger than ever for each other. Whatever happens when we go, or afterwards... I'm not giving this up without a fight."

Finnick nods, and I close my eyes and lean against his chest. He plants a gentle kiss on top of my head, and we change the subject, catching each other up on what we've missed this past week. Here, in the dark, I can breathe again, and everything finally seems clear.

I've never known for sure before. The public thinks I love Peeta. Snow, and probably Peeta, think I love Gale. And while I could never figure it out with either of them, this seems ridiculously simple. I can say now, without hesitation, that I love Finnick. I love him with everything I am. And I'll do anything to keep it this way.


	6. Chapter Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry there's been such a long break in this story! Hopefully it won't happen again and future chapters will be longer - I know this is short but it's really just to wrap up the time in Thirteen and move the action to the Capitol. Thanks so much everyone for reading and please do leave a comment! x

Chapter 6

"Knock knock." I'm so tired out by the day's events that I'm already half asleep by the time Finnick sticks his head around the door of my compartment.

"Hey." My voice is foggy as I sit myself up, "How late is it?"

"So late. Practically eight o'clock," He grins, suppressing a laugh as he joins me on my bed, wrapping his arms firmly around me, "Don't worry, you can relax. You must have had so many sleepless nights worrying that you wouldn't be assigned to the star squad with the best-looking soldier in Panem."

I slap him playfully on the chest, yawning as I sit up cross-legged to face him. Joking as he is, he's right – I am exhausted. The past two weeks have gone by in a blur as we've thrown ourselves into training, all leading up to today's exam. Which, while it went well for me, was a disaster for others.

"How's Johanna? Any better?"

Finnick's smile fades at that. "I didn't stay much longer than you, but she didn't seem it. They've got her under pretty heavy sedation, just so she can sleep, I think. You can tell she loved your gift though."

"That's something. I can't bear thinking about what it brought back for her. What they did."

"Then don't." Finnick gives me a sad smile, touching me on the cheek, "Remember what I've always said to you. Better not to give in to it."

I nod, remembering our conversation in the dark vault below Thirteen which solidified our friendship. "How was your exam on the Block, anyway? Did they pick you out a weakness?"

"Yeah, although it took me a while to figure it out," He admits, "I thought it was all a bit too easy, that I must be missing something, and then an explosion out of the blue left two of my teammates wounded. Over my headset, the instructions told me that they were beyond help and that I had to press on without them. Obviously, my instinct was to stay and try my best to save them, but I realised that's exactly what they were testing me for." He shakes his head with a sigh, "It was brutal."

"Oh god, that makes me feel even worse about mine! At least your 'weakness' puts you in a good light, that you care too much, with mine they were worried I was going to do something rash and put everyone in danger. Just like always."

"Nah," Finnick shakes his head, "They just want to know that you're playing the game. That you're not going to run off alone on some assassination mission as soon as we arrive." His eyebrows are raised as he watches for my reaction.

"Well, luckily that's not my plan." I say firmly, widening my eyes at him, "Not… Not alone, at least.

Finnick chuckles, shaking his head, "Oh, you are a piece of work, Everdeen. But you know that even if you somehow come up with an even stupider plan, I'll still be with you every step of the way."

I keep this comforting thought in my head as we settle down to sleep. As bad as I feel for Johanna, the tiny silver lining is that with her back in the hospital, Finnick and I can be in my compartment with no fear of being discovered. We keep up our positive chatter, hoping to hold off the nightmares, but it's no use. My sleep is riddled with what we saw today in Command. The holograph Plutarch showed us; the brutal reality that in a few days, we are headed right back into a fully equipped arena. It isn't my own yell that wakes me for once but Finnick's, and I grab his arms as he thrashes desperately among the sheets.

"How are we going to stand it, Katniss?" He whimpers as I told him tightly, smoothing his hair from his damp face, "I can't stop thinking… What we saw…"

"I know," I'm almost crying, "I promise, Finnick, I know. I keep seeing it too, over and over. The others can't understand, they're not victors, they can't see…" We take turns to be strong, the two of us - it's the only way we have any hope of keeping it together. Tonight, it's my turn. I take a deep breath.

"But it'll be okay," I choke out, trying my best to sound sincere, "I promise that it'll be okay because we'll be together." I could dig around and come up with more reasons, but I don't. Because this is the only one that's genuine, and the only one that really matters. "Me and you will be together no matter what. Until the end."

\---

"Katniss?" I jump, startled out of my trance-like state. I'm not quite sure how long I've been staring through the window, but it must be quite late, as Haymitch seems surprised to see me here as he comes in.

"Don't worry, sweetheart, it's just me." I manage a small, exhausted smile as he comes and stands behind my chair, rests his hands gently on my shoulders. "You come to say goodbye?"

We both turn our attention back to the observation window, and I sigh. "That was the plan, but I can't… I can't bring myself to go in."

Peeta, no longer restrained, lays flat on the floor of the hospital room like a child, propped up on one elbow, surrounded by dozens of sheets of paper and concentrating hard on an intricate drawing. It's the night before we're due to ship out to the Capitol, and I felt like I couldn't leave without some form of closure.

"He must be better," I say, "There's only one guard outside and there haven't been any doctors in here watching him since I arrived."

Haymitch considers, drawing up a chair beside me, "In some ways. I can definitely see a lot more of his old personality peeping through every now and then, but it's still hard to get things through to him. We're having no luck getting him to properly understand the state of the war at the moment, or what happened in District Twelve, but it's progress all the same. How are you feeling?"

"I'm not sure. I don't think I know quite what to expect, but whatever it is, I'm ready to get out of here."

"You're damn lucky, I can tell you that." Haymitch chuckles a little sadly, and for some reason I'm struck by quite how much I depend on him.

"Thank you," I blurt out, and I don't know how to explain what I mean, "For… I don't know. Just… Well, for still being my mentor. You always will be."

He nods, not one for sentimentality either. "No problem, sweetheart."

There's a couple of minutes of comfortable silence as we continue to watch Peeta working, before I ask, "What does he draw?"

"All sorts," Haymitch shrugs, "Animals, landscapes, sometimes people. The doctors here look at his pictures sometimes, supposedly it can help them see what he's thinking, but I don't know if I buy that. The other day…"

"What?" I'm intrigued as to why he stopped himself, "What, Haymitch?"

"It's nothing, really. The other day he was asking me what a boat looked like, so he could draw one for Annie. He's always drawing things he thinks will cheer her up, or help her."

I turn to Peeta again, puzzled, and look more closely at his current drawing, which seems to be of a girl. I shake my head, let out a sigh.

"They really must have gone through something together." I ponder, "In the Capitol. For both of them to become so fixated on each other. I don't think we'll ever understand it. At least… At least they're safe."

Finnick doesn't seem surprised, either, when I relay what Haymitch told me later that night.

"She's the same," He says, "When I did my best to explain to her that I'm leaving tomorrow, she just kept asking me if that meant Peeta was going too. It's all about what they've been through, I guess. While me and you were helping each other out here in Thirteen, they were helping each other out in the Capitol."

He asks me if I ever made it into Peeta's room, and I have to admit that I didn't. If I make it out of the Capitol alive, then it will be the time to worry about Peeta. And seeing as that's highly unlikely, there are no words I could really have come up with to say goodbye to him.

The next morning, I say goodbye to my family, and just like Finnick and I agreed, I say nothing about the Capitol's defences mirroring those in the arena. Leaving them is painful enough as it is. It's on the hovercraft ride, as I stare straight ahead, gripping Finnick's hand tightly and ignoring Gale's cold looks, that the magnitude of the situation hits me. After months of suffocation underground, we're finally on our way to the Capitol.

One way or another, it will all be over soon.


	7. Chapter Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry about the longest delay ever! I am determined to finish this story and all reviews are so very much appreciated. Enjoy!

Chapter Seven

Five days in, and we have contributed absolutely nothing towards the storming of the Capitol. Unless, of course, you count playacting with our guns on camera, or running around empty Capitol streets trying our best to look heroic. Everyone is on edge, everyone is restless, and no-one is happy with the quality of footage we're producing.

The past couple of days, Cressida has insisted on smearing concealer under my eyes before we begin filming, in a weak attempt to hide the dark circles which have bloomed since we arrived and refuse to fade. After she's finished with me this morning, muttering irritably to herself, she turns to Finnick, takes in his equally exhausted appearance, and sighs.

"Way to make things harder for me, guys! What's the matter, you two miss the luxurious beds of Thirteen or something?"

As she brings out her makeup again and hastily begins to work on Finnick, my eyes meet his and we share a sad, silent exchange. I cannot admit to anyone, of course, that my lack of sleep is because here, he and I must sleep in our own separate tents, unable to be together and help each other through the nights without the guards seeing and us giving the game away. And I'm barely holding it together.

It's early evening now, and I'm in my own cramped tent, ignoring the loneliness by poring over my paper map of the Capitol, determined to memorise every corner.

I'm instantly alert when I hear the frantic sound of footsteps pounding outside, and look up to see Finnick rip the flap of my tent open and throw himself down inside, panting and out of breath. He sits opposite me with wide eyes, and I recognise his expression. It's the one I wore when I was running through Thirteen, desperate to warn him about Plutarch's plan for his wedding. Something has happened.

"Finnick, what-?"

"He's here." He cuts me off hurriedly, "Peeta."

My eyes grow as wide as his, and instinctively I reach out for Finnick's hand, knowing I'll find it seeking mine. I don't need to say anything for him to continue.

"He just came sauntering out of the train station, telling anyone who'll listen that Coin assigned him herself. He's a replacement for Leeg, apparently."

"But, I mean…" I'm struggling, "Is he…?"

"I can't tell. He just seems so different, Katniss. So confident, stable, even."

I shake my head, a million thoughts clouding my brain. But one overrides the rest, and it makes me squeeze Finnick's hands even tighter.

"If Coin sent him here," I manage quietly, deliberately, "Then it means she's decided I'm of more use to her dead than alive."

His sad, green eyes gaze into mine, and he nods. I'm so glad he's not contradicting me, as most people would, instead letting out a sigh and gently bringing a hand to my cheek.

"Well, she clearly hasn't noticed the flaw in her plan." He manages a smirk, and I see a glimpse of the old, bold, cocky Finnick, "Me. You know I won't let you out of my sight when he's around, Katniss. I'm not going to lose you."

As risky as I know this is, I can't help but lean in towards him, and he hesitates for just a second, checks behind him to make sure the tent flap is securely closed, and pulls me in for a brief but scorching kiss. And then all too soon, his warmth and security leaves me as Finnick exits the tent, and I wait a few minutes before following, partly to avoid suspicion and partly to gather my strength before I inevitably have to see Peeta.

The sight of him calmly pitching his tent on our site makes me furious. As if sensing my presence, he looks up, our eyes meeting and my temper flaring. But before we can interact, Boggs has dragged me away on a walk, and what he says pretty much mirrors Finnick's sentiment.

"Coin wants a martyr for us to fight for," He says, "But that's not going to happen under my watch, Soldier Everdeen. I'm planning for you to have a long life."

This, along with reassurance from Haymitch over the phone, puts me at ease just a little, and against the odds I manage to be civil.

Then again, it is one thing to be civil and another thing to attempt being all out nice. After pestering Jackson to add me to the rotation for Peeta's guard, I start to think she was right to suggest I'm not quite the right person for the job. Although rightly wary, everyone else deals with him calmly, with kindness, whilst I bristle at the sound of his voice. I maintain a cool, neutral exterior, but he asks a question and I am infuriated. A puzzled look crosses his face and I have to stop myself flying into a rage.

In admitting my feelings for Finnick, making it here, escaping Thirteen, forming my plan, I had almost found a small burst of confidence. But having him here is like I have taken a huge step backward. Every reminder of this new, unsure Peeta is a reminder of how far gone he is from the boy I once thought I could love. A reminder of not only Snow's capabilities, but of Coin's. A reminder of the forces I am up against from every direction, and how stacked the odds are against me.

Snow may have created this monstrous situation, but Coin hasn't hesitated to use it to her advantage. The message couldn't be clearer: she has the power.

For now.

I'm surprised, although knowing his good nature, I shouldn't be, that it's Finnick who gets through to Peeta first. Their "real or not real" game catches on quickly, and even during those hours of the night when I'm not on watch, when I'm staring listlessly at the roof of my tent and dosing in and out of uneasy sleep, I can hear his questioning like a chant. It's repetitive, rhythmic, and almost soothing. Until a certain conversation catches my ear and I find myself listening properly.

"You and Annie are married."

I hear Finnick's breath catch in his throat, the way he carefully settles his tone to sound comforting rather than defensive. "Not real. Plutarch wanted us to be married for a propo, but... Honestly? Some things are taking it too far in the name of entertainment."

"Katniss and I are married?""Not real." Finnick's voice is still kind, but now firm. "But you told Caesar Flickerman you were, on camera, to get the audience's support."

Peeta seems to consider this, and I can't help myself. I twist so that I can peer out of my tent, unseen but able to make them out in the dancing light of the fire. I see Peeta's hand move to his eyes, our messy situation difficult enough to understand without Snow's poison confusing matters even further.

He sighs, finally speaking quietly. "It would just be so much easier for people to find the ones they love for themselves. You tell someone what to feel or believe for long enough and eventually they won't be able to help but believe it."

It's hard to be sure in the shadows, but I swear I see Finnick look over to my tent, nodding slowly. I expect him to comfort Peeta with some eloquent words of advice, but instead his voice is choked up and thick with emotion as he replies.

"You don't have to tell me that, Peeta. Believe me."

In that moment, it takes every ounce of control I have not to rush out and wrap my arms around him.

Peeta gives Finnick a long, puzzled look, as though trying to work him out, but says nothing more, and returns to his borrowed rope.

I lie back, my throat tight and my chest aching dully. I think about all the things Peeta assured me of in the past, and he's right - I did start to believe him. Of course, there was his Capitol spiel, as he charmed the viewers with talk of our love, our connection, our passion. But there were also words spoken in hushed tones in the middle of the night. Promises, straight from the heart, that he would always, always stay with me no matter what. I heard it so much that I started to believe it.

But every word of it came from others. I heard of our love rather than feeling it; rather than finding it from somewhere within myself. We were thrown together, Peeta and I, whereas with Finnick... well, we chose each other. We reached out in the dark, seeking the support we needed, and found this connection that burns between us. It took the public and our mentors stepping back, ignoring our personal lives and leaving us to our own devices for us to work out what we really needed. And who we needed it from.

\----

Spending nights listening to Peeta verbalise his struggles softens my approach somewhat, and I resolve to appreciate rather than simply tolerate his presence. I help him out with some of his easier questions, and he allows me to teach him some of the more complicated knots I have learned from Finnick.

Finnick himself watches us with a smile so subtle I think only I notice it, and without saying a word, it tells me he is proud of me. Most of our exchanges have to be wordless in this way - the combination of time spent guarding Peeta and the endless propos our team are demanding mean we are lucky if we can have one private conversation a day. Our blissful week together in District Four might as well have been a hundred years ago.

The weather has turned. Frost settles on the grass and threatens to creep under our tent doors each night, and we must keep the fire going 24/7. It's early on a bitterly cold morning, and Jackson calls out for any volunteers to go and find more firewood. For once, neither Finnick or I are on duty for Peeta, and of course we jump at the chance.

In a relatively private clearing around a mile away from camp, Finnick allows his guard to drop, and I instantly see the frustration and weakness which he hides so well from everyone else.

"I miss you."

"I know. _So_ much."

Our words are barely whispers, muffled as we hold each other tightly. Finnick inhales sharply, frustratedly brushing a tear from his eyes. The action breaks my heart a little.

"Hey," I tell him, gripping his icy hands tightly, "It's ok. It's only me here. Talk to me."

As always, we must take turns to be strong, and I won't disappoint. It would be too dangerous for us both to break down at once.

"I'm sick of it." His voice wavers with honesty, "I'm sick of waiting here day in, day out. I'm sick of these propos, we're not contributing anything, I..." He sighs, "I don't want us to have to rush into battle, but waiting here on the edge of one is so much worse. I'm ready to go now, I'm ready for this to get _real_ , I want-"

Finnick halts at the sound of someone approaching, and we spring apart, seizing the small piles of wood we had left at our feet.

"Odair?! Catnip?!" It's Gale, his demeanour frosty despite him using my old nickname. He's always the same when he comes across the two of us together, even though what he knows about our relationship barely scratches the surface. Between the time he spends checking up on me and Finnick and the newfound glares now that Peeta is back on the scene, I wonder that he has time for anything else.

Today, though, he seems to have a genuine excuse.

"They want everyone back. Apparently they need the whole squad together for a fairly complicated- Jeez, it's freezing out here away from camp - a complicated propo."

We begin to head back with our meagre bundles of wood, and as soon Gale's back is turned, Finnick blows me a silent kiss. _I'm sorry_ , he mouths, and in return I give him a smile which tells him _It's okay._ He certainly doesn't need to defend his frustration to me.

As we walk, Gale explains the concept of the propo, which involves complex stunts and us using our specialty weapons, and I have to admit that it sounds marginally more productive than what we have been doing. It's still entirely for show, of course, but we have a new sense of energy as we suit up, begrudgingly have our makeup applied, and head down to the abandoned Capitol block.

This energy seems to spread to the whole squad, and as we get more and more into our roles, the atmosphere on set is positively lighthearted. All of us, even Boggs, are in hysterics at the acting skills of some of our team members; Mitchell's attempt to project his idea of desperation by grinding his teeth and flaring his nostrils has me doubled over laughing.

I'm still wiping tears of mirth from my eyes when I catch sight of Finnick, dramatically feigning a dodge out of the way of a fake smoke bomb, and I'm caught in fits of giggles again. He grins at me as Cressida shouts "Cut!" through her own laughter, and swoops towards me. It's the first time I've seen his old, cheery, oh-so-charming self in what seems like months, and my heart could almost burst from the relief.

"I don't know what you think you're laughing at, Everdeen!" He teases, seizing me playfully and lifting me off my feet. I laugh even more as he spins me around, and suddenly I am on that breathtaking beach in Four, running carefree with Finnick in the sunset. Just as he sets me on my feet we are staring into each others' eyes, I have raised my hands to cup his cheeks, and then...

And then Boggs sharply clears his throat. We freeze. The moment shatters. We have forgotten where we are, and who we are with.

I sheepishly brush myself down, clearing my own throat quietly, and finally find the courage to look at the rest of the squad. Boggs' eyebrows are raised. Cressida, frankly, looks quite amused. Peeta has that same puzzled look on his face as when he was trying to decipher Finnick's words the other night. Jackson looks disdainful. The others look slightly uncomfortable.

Gale is livid. He opens his mouth, and I genuinely don't know what he is going to say - but he doesn't get a chance.

He is cut off by the blast of the bomb which blows Boggs' legs off. And then another, equally deafening.

Mayhem. Cressida's piercing scream. Peeta's blind, terror-fuelled snarls as he lunges for me, stopped by Mitchell, who in turn finds himself slammed to the street. Finnick desperately yelling my name and at the same time attempting to revive Messalla, who was struck by the second explosion. Boggs' hurried, frantic orders, whispered to me in his dying moments. Him transferring command of the Holo to me. Peeta overcoming Mitchell with his brutal strength and launching him into another pod, which traps him in a fishing net like one of Finnick's. Someone breaking into an apartment. Castor and Pollux restraining Peeta. Gale and Homes dragging what remains of Boggs inside. Me standing still, overcome, gazing at the vast mass of oil which begins to gain on us. Finnick pulling me into his arms and half leading, half carrying me inside, bolting the door shut.

The squad rushes around, securing the apartment, filling the cracks in case of leaks or fumes. I cannot believe how quickly the world has changed around us.

The others' surprise at mine and Finnick's display of affection, in reality less than two minutes ago, now seems like a lifetime away, and the most trivial thing in the world.

Everyone has collapsed into chairs, sofas, the floor, and in Peeta's case, a locked cupboard, and the silence weighs on us all.

Somehow, because someone has to be the first, I manage to break it, my voice hoarse and quiet.

"Well, Finnick, you said you were ready for things to get real. Here we go."

 


End file.
